


For the Bridegroom who Marries in June

by princesstigerlily



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 11:23:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21319399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesstigerlily/pseuds/princesstigerlily
Summary: Marcy gives David a pre-wedding gift
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 78
Kudos: 337





	For the Bridegroom who Marries in June

**Author's Note:**

> I'm breaking up writing some heavy Marcy and Patrick stuff for another fic with this quick bit of Marcy and David sweetness.
> 
> Enjoy.

David leaned across the register, his head resting in his hands, and groaned. The store had been open for an hour and only one customer had come in so far. He was _bored_. And with the wedding only a week away, his anxiety was at a solid 6 at all times. The combination of boredom and anxiety was not making for a very emotionally stable David.

A soft tinkling noise sounded from the bell on the door signaling someone entering the shop, forcing David to bolt up from his prone position into an approximation of casual professionalism.

“Welcome to Rose Apo-oh! Mrs. Brewer! When did you get into town? Patrick wasn’t expecting you until this afternoon.”

Mrs. Brewer smiled warmly at David, her whole face bright and beaming. “We were so excited for the celebrating to begin, we left last night. Stopped at a little hotel in Oak Crest when it got dark and drove the last few hours this morning. The store is looking just lovely, David!”

David scuttled around the register towards his future mother-in-law and allowed her to wrap him in a warm hug. “Thank you, Mrs. Brewer.” Pulling out his phone, he asked, “Did you need to me to call Patrick? I think he’s still at home finishing up a few things.”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart, Patrick already knows we’re here. He’s headed over to the motel to meet up with his father. No, I actually needed to talk to you.”

David’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Okay,” he said warily. Since Patrick’s surprise coming out and his and David’s subsequent engagement, the relationship between the three Brewers had become considerably less strained. Marcy and Clint had made it a mission to get to know David on a deeper level than they had when they mistakenly thought he was only Patrick’s business partner. But being so far away, the relationship still felt fresh and tender. David still wasn’t used to the kind of maternal energy that emanated from Marcy Brewer. Still felt a desperate need to impress her. Still worried that the other shoe would eventually drop, and she and Clint would convince Patrick he was making a mistake in marrying someone like David.

“David, there’s a tradition in my family for mothers of the groom. It’s gone on for…I don’t know how many generations. When a son gets engaged, as a way to welcome the new bride into the family, she’s given the mother’s wedding veil to wear at her wedding.”

David froze.

“This has always been an important tradition to me,” Marcy continued, seemingly oblivious to David’s discomfort. “It’s such a cliché, mothers hating their son’s wives, and so many of my friends have had terrible relationships with their mothers-in-law. As soon as I gave birth to a son, I was determined to never be like that. And when he told us he and Rachel had gotten engaged, I don’t think I lasted an hour before I pulled my wedding veil out of the closet for her to try on.”

David grimaced in an attempt to smile politely, nodding along to Marcy’s story. But he could feel his lungs constricting, his chest rising and falling with shallower and shallower breaths. He wasn’t sure he could bear to listen to the ways in which his presence ruined her family tradition.

“I know Patrick’s told you how close Rachel and I became, and I want you to know that I’m sorry you and I haven’t had the time to get to know each other as well as I would like.” Taking David’s clammy hands in her own, Marcy squeezed them. “But I know we will.”

Dropping David’s hands again, Marcy looked down and began rummaging in her purse. “So, I have something for you.” From the bottom, she drew out a small black and white jewelry box.

David’s hand shook as he took the box. Before he opened it, his eyes flicked up to Marcy’s face, now flushed and somewhat bashful, like she wasn’t sure David would appreciate the gift. Her lower lip was caught in her teeth, and David’s lungs relaxed slightly as he thought of her son doing the same thing. Carefully, he snapped open the lid of the box.

Inside, nestled on a bed of black velvet, were a set of round lace cufflinks, each studded with a small diamond.

“I didn’t…” Marcy began, but had to stop to clear her throat. “I didn’t think the veil would be appropriate seeing as you’re not a bride, so I had these made for you instead. The lace is from the bodice of my wedding gown and the diamonds are from my engagement ring.”

David’s jaw dropped. Gingerly he ran a finger over the beautiful jewelry. David had owned his fair share of expensive jewelry and priceless, one of a kind pieces, but he knew nothing he owned had ever been this precious.

“F-for me?”

David could feel his body start to tremble and his eyes fill with tears, overcome with emotion. To be included in such a tradition meant so much to him, he couldn’t even put it into words. He wasn’t just being tolerated as Patrick’s husband or even accepted. He was being welcomed, celebrated.

“David,” Marcy began again, a slight wobble in her voice. “I need you to know, I don’t feel like I am losing anything by you marrying my son. You are not standing in the place where my daughter-in-law is supposed to be.”

At the acknowledgement of David’s worst fear, his eyes overflowed and the tears spilled out. He laughed, wet and desperate, clutching the box to his chest and staring down into Marcy’s own smiling, tearful face. Warm, loving hands reached for him, cupping his cheeks and leaning him down so she could press a soft, motherly kiss to his forehead.

“You, my sweet boy, are everything I ever wanted for my son.”


End file.
